


Pulling Shivers

by suckerfordeansfreckles



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Accidental Cove Confessions, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Best Friends, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Childhood Friends, First Kiss, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Hand Jobs, Human Castiel (Supernatural), Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Skinny Dipping, Spending the Holidays Home with their Families, Swimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2020-02-07 10:28:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18618772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suckerfordeansfreckles/pseuds/suckerfordeansfreckles
Summary: “You ever been skinny dipping?” Dean asks, out of absolutely nowhere. He’s looking up at Cas, upside-down from where he’s hanging off of Cas’ bed, a black controler clasped loosely in his hands.They’ve been hanging out and playing video games in Cas’ childhood bedroom all day, trying to use the days they have left before they inevitably have to start the three-hour drive back to college together.They are roommates now, and still best friends, just like when they were seven years old and missing a few teeth. Cas is also, unfortunately, still as head over heels in love with Dean now, at the age of 23, as he was when Dean was still too small to sit in the Impala without a booster seat, still only sitting and watching as his uncle Bobby tinkered on cars, still loud and laughing unabashedly, still void of worries.Cas stumbles a little over the question. “Um — I. No, never. You?”





	Pulling Shivers

**Author's Note:**

> Big, BIG thank you to my lovely friends [Jules (sharkfish)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharkfish/pseuds/sharkfish), [Flo (casbean)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/casbean/pseuds/casbean) and [Ela](https://elaspn.tumblr.com/) for dealing with all my stuggling and worrying <3 ILY

“You ever been skinny dipping?” Dean asks, out of absolutely nowhere. He’s looking up at Cas, upside-down from where he’s hanging off of Cas’ bed, a black controler clasped loosely in his hands.

 

They’ve been hanging out and playing video games in Cas’ childhood bedroom all day, trying to use the days they have left before they inevitably have to start the three-hour drive back to college together. 

 

They are roommates now, and still best friends, just like when they were seven years old and missing a few teeth. Cas is also, unfortunately, still as head over heels in love with Dean now, at the age of 23, as he was when Dean was still too small to sit in the Impala without a booster seat, still only sitting and watching as his uncle Bobby tinkered on cars, still loud and laughing unabashedly, still void of worries.

 

It’s not like they won’t have time to spend together once they get back — but being back home with their families, sleeping in beds that are just a little too small now, being fed all their favorite foods, hanging out in spots that have hosted some of their best adventures just a few years ago — it’s something different entirely.

 

A bit like being small again, allowed to spend the day running around in the fields behind their houses, with scraped knees and dirty hands and not a single thought of school or work in their heads. And that’s what they’ve been doing, this past week — being kids again, teens again.

 

The plan was to play  _ Grand Theft Auto IV _ and drink beer until late at night, until they can curl up on Cas’ bed and the mattress on his floor and talk until they fall asleep. 

 

The sun is barely going down, yet, which is why Cas stumbles a little over the question. “Um — I. No, never. You?”

 

“No, but I’ve always wanted to,” Dean laughs, a twinkle in his eyes as he sits up on the bed. “You up for it?”

 

“For skinny dipping?” Cas asks, frowning a little as he stops the game to fully turn back to Dean. “Now? With you?”

 

“I mean, if you’d rather take someone else, I’m not—” Dean starts, lips pulled into a smirk that doesn’t quite look right.

 

“No,” Cas interrupts, before he can even finish his sentence. “Yeah, I’m up for it.”

 

“Yeah?” Dean asks, his smile beaming and, most importantly, real.“You sure? We could head back to that lake in the woods behind Bobby’s, like when we were little.”

 

“Oh, we haven’t been in ages! We should do that, yes,” Cas says, and then that seems to settle their decision. 

 

Dean is up and out of the bed in seconds, barely taking the time to grab for the remote control between the sheets and switch off the TV before he’s grabbing for Cas’ arm instead, pulling him with him down the stairs and out into the garden. 

 

Bobby’s is two streets from their homes, and they stumble down the sidewalk side by side, laughing and giddy and bumping against each other. Knowing that Bobby is still at the Winchester’s for dinner and drinks, a Friday night tradition older than Dean and Cas themselves, makes sneaking past his house and back out into the woods even easier.

 

The sun is slowly creeping down above them, leaving the sky pink and violet and light blue. Cas is infinitely glad that Dean still hasn’t let go of his biceps, because he’d have stumbled and crashed to the floor at least twice by now, unable to take his eyes off  the sky and its beautiful wash of colors.

 

Dean, though, has thankfully gotten used to Cas’ love for the sky years and years ago. He seems to know exactly how useless and dazed Cas turns for a few minutes when the sun climbs up or goes down, when a storm pulls on the clouds, when the night is clear and there are dozens and dozens of stars lighting the sky like speckles of the most beautiful paint.

 

He tends to just take Cas’ arm and guide him — which is what he does now. He maneuvers them through Bobby’s backyard, around old cars and other junk, through the belt of trees around the lake, and towards the water.

 

It‘s only when Dean’s broad hand leaves his arm that Cas is ripped back to reality, shaking his head and smiling. “I wish I could take a picture to do it justice,” he sighs for what is probably the hundredth time in their lives. But then his eyes find Dean’s face, freckled and a little flushed and so goddamn beautiful — and he suddenly desperately wants to take an entirely different picture. 

 

Dean just watches Cas watch him, eyes soft with something like fondness, and doesn’t say anything.

 

Neither of them do, really, until Dean’s hands go down and wrap around the hem of his shirt and his expression changes, eyes glittering and lips moving into a smirk. “Last one in the water owes the other,” he challenges, and then he rips off his shirt in a flurry of motion.

 

Cas takes a second to thank his lucky stars for the fact that Dean raised this challenge, because it robs him of the chance to even attempt to stare while Dean undresses. He can just imagine how awful things might have ended if he had the time to watch as Dean peels layers of clothes off his body until there’s nothing left at all, skin and freckles and hips exposed for Cas to look at. How things might have ended if not for this little race that leaves Cas focussing on nothing but the chance to beat Dean.

 

Because now he’s ripping at his own clothes, pulling his shirt over his head and fumbling with his belt as Dean laughs, loud and proud and beautiful, jumping on one leg as he pulls off his left shoe. Cas brain still stumbles a little at how gorgeous and free he looks, but quickly zooms back in on the task at hand; pulling off his pants and underwear while attempting to kick off his shoes.

 

He manages to do so faster than expected, and suddenly he’s wearing nothing at all. A quick look at Dean assures him, lets him know that he’s doing fairly good — because Dean is still struggling with his jeans. He laughs, and then starts to rush towards the lake. He’s glad for the last sunbeams that are lighting up the sky, leaving him at least able to make sure there isn’t anything on the ground he could trip over.

 

“Hey! Socks off, too,” Dean shouts behind him, voice full of laughter, and Cas takes a short break to pull off his socks and throw them into the general direction of Dean, before he leaps the last few feet towards the water and then wades into it until it laps at his belly button.

 

Dean crashes into the water seconds after him like a tsunami, water sloshing around them when Dean reemerges from it, grinning like crazy. “Man, you were quicker than I thought,” he says, breathless and shaking his head. “I was so sure I could make you mow our backyard tomorrow while I sat around and watched.”

 

Cas laughs, and he has to admit it’s a little gleeful, and is in the middle of planning his revenge when Dean splashes him with a wall of water. Right at his face. 

 

Cas makes a sound somewhere between indignant and delighted, and when he cups his hand and splashes water right back at his giggling best friend, somehow their biggest water fight ever begins. 

 

They don’t stop until they are both dripping wet, water in their hair and their ears and clinging to their lashes. Not until the sky turns gloomy and the moon shines down on them, and they are both shivering a little, even though the heat of the day still lingers in the air. 

 

They go down together one last time when Dean throws himself at Cas with a war cry unlike any before, and then they submerge, tangled and kicking. And they come up again, gasping for air and still tangled, but this time clinging. 

 

Cas isn’t sure how they ended up that far in the lake, with the muddy ground still beneath their feet but the water licking on their shoulders. He isn’t sure how he ended up with his legs tangled between Dean’s and his arms wrapped around his waist. 

 

He isn’t sure at all how they ended up this close, how he’s allowed to breathe against Dean’s lips and stare all he wants without being interrupted, pushed away.

 

He isn’t sure how they end up kissing, either, but it feels like the most natural thing. Like it was always supposed to happen, like it was their goal all along. And Cas can’t deny that it was his wish, for a very long time, but he’s been so sure that Dean wasn’t interested, wasn’t into him.

 

The way he’s kissing him now, soft but sure, _desperate_ , the way his left arm is wrapped around Cas’ waist, the way the fingers of his right hand tangle in Cas’ wet hair and hold on so tight it feels like Dean’s scared Cas might slip away otherwise —  it feels not at all like what Cas thought, that Dean isn’t interested. 

 

And then he feels Dean’s cock, hard against the hollow of his hip, and all the spiraling thoughts slip away like he opened the drain. All he can focus on now is the softness of Dean’s lips, the little desperate, happy noises he makes. The way he holds Cas close, holds him up above the water, ruts up against him in gentle little rolls of his hips during all of it. 

 

“Dean,” he gasps into the kiss, against plush, wet lips. “Dean, I—”

 

Dean kisses him before he can say another word, and he’s glad for it, no idea where that sentence was supposed to go anyway. Dean kisses him, and then his hand leaves Cas’ hair to brush down his side, his back, over the swell of his ass. 

 

Cas has been hard for a while, can’t really tell how long, but he hasn’t felt his arousal like this until this very moment — painful and needy, too much. It has him whining in the back of his throat, and Dean answers with a soft shush, hand sliding around his hip and down between his legs.

 

When Dean first wraps his hand around him, it’s not at all how Cas ever imagined it. It’s not even the water around them making it different than Cas’ dreams — it’s the gentleness in Dean’s touch, the careful, thoughtful way he moves. Cas had thought that if it ever happened, it would be rough and fast and desperate. It’s no less desperate now — it’s just less of a frantic hookup and more like what he thinks “making love” must feel like. 

 

It’s everything, from the way Dean starts to stroke him to the way his lips bury in Cas’ neck, pressing and nipping and teasing. Cas moans, and he can’t even feel self-conscious about it because Dean moans back at hearing him, breath hot against Cas’ still damp neck. “Fuck, Cas,” he murmurs, his arm around Cas’ middle tightening, fingers digging into the meat of Cas’ ass. “Fuck, I’ve thought about this so much,” he whispers into Cas’ skin, almost too quiet for Cas to understand — but when he does, his heart tumbles in his chest.

 

“Are you—” Cas tries, but then Dean squeezes around his cock in a way that rips all the air from his lungs. “Oh my god, Dean,” he groans, head shooting up to capture Dean’s lips between his own again. It’s messier, uncoordinated, but still so incredibly perfect that it has goosebumps chasing down Cas’ arms. 

 

Dean chuckles into the kiss, thumb teasing a spot beneath the head of Cas’ dick that has him keening, whimpering, and then they break the kiss so Cas can drop his head to Dean’s shoulder and focus on breathing. 

 

“Shit,” Cas says, mind swimming with pleasure and delight and  _ Dean _ . “Dean, god, I love you.”

 

Somehow, time slams to a halt barely a second after Cas realizes what has tumbled out of his mouth. Dean’s hand stills on Cas’ dick and his breath stumbles, right along with his heartbeat. Cas think, for a split-second, of pulling back, of looking up. Of checking Dean’s reaction. But he can’t, he thinks, can’t see shock and rejection and maybe even disgust, so he keeps his head buried in the crook of Dean’s neck and just hopes — hopes for this to not end in heartbreak.

 

But then Dean’s hands pull away from his body, guide him down to the lake’s muddy floor and away from where he was wrapped around Dean. Before Cas can turn, can walk away and hide somewhere from the feelings threatening to crush him, Dean’s hands wrap around his cheeks and raise his head until their eyes lock.

 

He’s wide-eyed and flushed, but there’s the beginning of what Cas knows is Dean’s biggest, happiest smile dancing around his lips. “For real?” he asks, breathless and astonished. “Cas, are you serious?”

 

And the way his voice breaks, the way the tips of his fingers press into the skin of Cas’ jaw, the way his eyelashes flutter — “Yes,” Cas answers, sounding way more courageous than he feels. “Yes, I am. I love you.”

 

And then, for the second time today, Dean tackles Cas into the water. They submerge, tangled and kicking, and they come up, tangled and sputtering and pressed as close as humanly possible.

 

Cas is wiping water from his eyes, held up by Dean’s arms around his hips again, when Dean presses forward into Cas’ neck and says: “I love you, too. Cas, for such a long time. I didn’t think—”  he breaks off, muffling a sound between a whimper and a sigh. “Fuck, Cas,” he says, lips pressing to the soft skin of Cas’ neck, hot and wet and the best thing Cas has ever felt. 

 

“Dean,” Cas breathes, hands coming up to weave into Dean’s wet, tangled hair. His heart is slamming against his ribcage, brain stumbling over Dean’s word — still not entirely sure Dean really pulled him closer instead of pushing him away. That Dean really feels the same way. “Are you—”

 

“Yes,” Dean says, sounding even more sure than Cas did. He pulls away from Cas’ neck to look at him, flushed and grinning and wide-eyed. “Yes, I love you.”

 

He opens his mouth to say more, but then Cas is on him, kissing him, touching him. It’s like something snapped, like he finally realized that  _ he  _ is allowed to touch, too. He’s kissing Dean, deep and hard, can’t really help the desperation, the happiness, and the longing that seep from his lips. 

 

And he’s touching.

 

Dean’s skin is soft and smooth beneath his fingers, warm and perfect. Cas’ fingers pull shivers from him wherever they touch, have Dean shaking and panting in seconds. Dean is touching him, as well, but Cas is single-mindedly focused on touching every part of Dean’s skin he can reach, can barely feel the gentle touch on his shoulders and ribs and thighs. His fingers brush down over Dean’s toned chest, dance over the softness of his tummy, relinquish in the feeling of finally being able to touch what he’s been aching for for such a long time. Dean breaks the kiss, leans his forehead against Cas, and then Cas’ fingers follow the trail of coarse hair down towards Dean’s dick, hard and wanting. The first touch, just a curious brush along his shaft, has Dean’s breath shuddering.

 

And then Dean’s the one clinging, fingers digging into the flesh of Cas’ shoulders as he lets himself fall into the touch, waits for Cas, for whatever Cas will give him. It’s not a hard decision at all, and even before he really makes it, his fingers wrap around the base of Dean’s cock and squeeze. 

 

It’s not like what Cas imagined, really, but this time that’s entirely due to the water slowing the movement of his wrist as he starts to stroke, starts to squeeze around Dean’s length. Dean is keening, breathless and absolutely gorgeous, and it doesn’t take long until Cas knows exactly which spots to touch and which way to twist to make him come undone — just by the way his breathing and voice dip or raise. 

 

It doesn’t take long until Dean’s head drops lower, rests on Cas shoulder, and he stutters through moans that indicate just how close to coming he is already. “Cas,” he whispers. “Cas, fuck, so close.” And then Cas twists just right, thumb rubbing over the spot just beneath Dean’s head, and Dean’s teeth find the flesh of his shoulder and he bites down in the middle of an earth-shattering moan, hard enough to bruise.

 

Cas can feel him twitch and pulse in his hand, his entire body shivering against Cas’ as he comes, and Cas is pretty sure he can never live without this feeling again.

 

“Cas” Dean murmurs again, this time shaky and fucked-out, and Cas would worry a little if not for the way Dean raises his head and captures Cas’ lips between his own in a kiss so soft, it feels like it might break. 

 

They just stay like that for a while, in the middle of the lake, kissing and holding onto each other, until Dean has caught his breath enough to pull back a little. He looks more like the Dean Cas knows now, a mischievous smile on his lips. 

 

“My turn now,” he murmurs, and then his hand wraps around Cas’ cock, and Cas realizes with a start just how hard he still is. Or again? It doesn’t really matter, all that matters now is the way Dean touches him, sure and skilled and so good, he has Cas close way too soon, too.

 

It’s even better than before, the way Dean touches him now combined with the fact that Cas knows, finally. He knows that Dean loves him, too, that this isn’t a one-time-thing. That he can just let himself fall and enjoy this, and that there will be a next time. Several next times, hopefully. Next times that Cas can spend cataloguing every feeling and every touch and every look Dean shoots him.

 

This time, all he focuses on is having Dean close, how good his fist feels around him, how his mouth tastes. All he focuses on is the thought that this is a start, that this is  _ their  _ start. 

 

When Cas comes, it’s with a low and needy whine against Dean’s lips, shaking apart in Dean’s arms like he only ever dreamed of. It’s absolutely everything.

 

Later Cas will worry about just how much time they spent in the cool water, skin covered in goosebumps and pruny as the night’s breeze curls around them. Later.

 

Now, Cas wraps around Dean and holds him as close as possible for as long as he can.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed this random thing :')
> 
> You can find me on [Tumblr](https://suckerfordeansfreckles.tumblr.com/) \- I would love to talk to you!! <3
> 
> There's also a [rebloggable version of this fic](https://suckerfordeansfreckles.tumblr.com/post/184480944809/pulling-shivers-summary-you-ever-been-skinny) on Tumblr!


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